


Baking and Talking

by Lavender_Persimmon305



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Baking, F/M, annoyed, drunk dwarf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Persimmon305/pseuds/Lavender_Persimmon305
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona is trying to come to terms with her feelings for Fili.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baking and Talking

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to TheBatchild for pushing me to start writing this! This is so WIP it's not even funny, so please bear with me.

Fiona scooped the dough out of the bowl and set it on the floured work table, ignoring the sounds of the party outside of the kitchen. She needed quiet and time to think and evaluate, and watching the dwarves carousing in various states of inebriation along with Bilbo and Gandalf and the tavern’s patrons wasn’t doing anything to get her thoughts on a logical, untangled path.

She brushed a stray blonde curl back from her forehead with her wrist before she began to knead the dough, sprinkling pinches of fresh herbs from the bowls set around her into the mix as she folded and manipulated the dough.

The scents of rosemary, garlic, and dried red peppers were soothing, and she could feel the knot of tension that had been gathering between her shoulderblades beginning to loosen as she let her hands move in familiar motions.

“Would you care to speak your mind?”

Fiona jumped, noticing Astrid walking in to the kitchen, the brunette carrying a plate with pieces of roasted chicken, a couple hunks of cheese, and apple slices. 

“And perhaps have a snack?” The bowmaiden lifted the plate invitingly before setting it on a clear spot on the table.

Fiona snickered softly, shaking her head, then frowning at the loud burst of laughter beyond the door, the stamp of approving feet thundering through the walls.

Astrid slid into a chair at the end of the table, pinching off a piece of one of the cheeses and eating it with a bit of chicken. “If it helps, it bothers him also,” she said quietly, her head tilting as she watched the other woman working. “These feelings are new to him, too, I think.”

The blonde didn’t even try to deny that she knew to whom her travelling companion was referring. “He doesn’t act like it,” she muttered, adding in some parsley. “Winking at serving girls, trading bawdy stories with his brother…”

“Is it his experiences that bother you, or how flippant he appears to be about them?” Astrid wondered, now sampling an apple slice. “And if it’s the latter, do you worry that he will be as flippant regarding you?”

Fiona bowed her head briefly, emotions warring in her heart. “I worry because I don’t know how long I have here. I’m not even entirely sure what I’m supposed to do here, and I wonder, when I accomplish it, whatever it is, will I be pulled back to my time? What if I’m sent away tomorrow? What if it’s decades from now and I’ve married someone and had children?” She shook her head once more, carefully setting the dough into the bowl again and covering it with a cloth so it could rise more.

She sank onto the bench on the other side of the table and picked up her own piece of chicken. “He bothers me, Astrid. I’ve had feelings for men before,” she smiled ruefully. “Some that made me giddy, some that made me feel like I’d swallowed fire everytime I looked at them. But Fili…I feel like I’ll never have enough of him,” she admitted, her eyes sad as they looked at the flames dancing in the fireplace. “He angers me, intrigues me, wrecks me. Half the time I want to deck him, the other half I just want to hold him. And I don’t know if I can, or if I should. How much time do we have? And does he want to let me have what time we can?"

Astrid regarded her friend sympathetically. While she couldn’t relate to the woman’s time-travelling problems, she could understand the uncertainty of whether or not to pursue anything with the person she had affections for.

“Have you spoken of any of this with him?” she asked gently, adding a little salt to her chicken.

They looked up as the door slammed open, the topic of their discussion grinning at them from the doorway. 

“There you are!” he bellowed at the women, his cheeks reddened from laughter and ale above his beard. “You’re missing out on an excellent party!” he informed them, striding in and sweeping Fiona up to spin her around the room for a few moments. “Come and dance with me, lovely Fi,” he laughed, reaching up and brushing away a streak of flour on her cheek with his thumb.

Something appeared in his eyes just for a heartbeat, an emotion she couldn’t quite fathom laid bare before it was smothered in the teasing smirk he normally wore.

“I…” She blinked, frowning in confusion, overwhelmed by his warmth and delight, the scents of his leathers and soap warring with the familiar ones of the kitchen around her. “Maybe…Later, I think. I have things to finish in here,” she fumbled, surprised and slightly saddened at how easily he let her go when she pushed at his shoulders.

“At your service,” he murmured, sketching her a short bow before turning to Astrid, who watched them with a shuttered expression. “Lady Astrid?” he offered, smiling once more, all traces of regret gone from his face.

She sighed inwardly at the pair and their little dance of avoidance and got to her feet, fixing a smile for Fili’s benefit. “Very well, but just for a few minutes. Then I think I should help Fiona for a bit.”

“Oh, no, it’s all right,” the other woman laughed, a bit too brittle and nervous for Astrid’s liking. “You two have fun.”

Fili watched as she turned away, busying herself with something else on the table, and Astrid’s lips thinned to see his smile falter. “Very well,” he replied, his grin returning when he felt the brunette’s gaze on him. “Enjoy your cookery,” he laughed, spinning Astrid from the room.  


Fiona waited until she heard the door close once more before she crept over to it and peered out through a crack, her shoulders slumping as she watched Fili twirling Astrid in a reel that had the room applauding.  


She was a coward where he was concerned, too, she realized, turning away, wondering why she’d been sent back to his realm and what she could possibly do to help.


End file.
